


My R

by The_Fangirl_Sunstorm



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, I don't have all the details fleshed out yet, I have a plan I promise, Kinda, Loosely based on the song My R, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Episode: Accepting Anxiety, Protective Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Suicidal Thoughts, Work In Progress, but I wanted to post this before I overthought it too much, sorry if its a little messy, you'll see why later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fangirl_Sunstorm/pseuds/The_Fangirl_Sunstorm
Summary: There was a place in the mindscape that no one ever lingered by. It was something that the sides were never taught, but sensed almost from their creation. The same way they knew how to breathe, or which trait they represented, some things were just instinctual. This was one of them.Even Virgil wasn't sure at first why he kept going back.(THIS WORK IS ON INDEFINITE HIATUS)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	1. First Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter's a bit messy but I didn't want to pick it to pieces while trying to edit so I decided to just post it. Hope it'll still keep your attention anyway :)

There was a place in the mindscape that no one ever lingered by. It was something that the sides were never taught, but sensed almost from their creation. The same way they knew how to breathe, or which trait they represented, some things were just instinctual. This was one of them. 

The subconscious was a wide and murky place, and straying too far within it was very dangerous. Too much time there left a side feeling weak and unsteady, lost in dark thoughts. Virgil thought once, as he drew close to its edge, that it felt like the way dementors were described in Harry Potter, like forgetting how to be happy, and then forgetting how to feel altogether. Numbness and then nothingness.

For most sides the idea of fading away was terrifying, and they avoided even the lighter parts of the subconscious at all costs. 

Virgil never planned to find himself there, he was well aware of the risks, but one night, a terrible bout of anxiety left him in a restless and unsteady state. He got out of bed and started walking, not really caring where he was going, just desperate for an escape to his spiking heart rate and twisting thoughts. He found himself on the edge of the mindscape, the subconscious swirling below in murky tendrils of fog that wisped and curled around his ankles. Virgil didn’t know how long he stood there, lost in a heavy, almost trance-like state as he watched the fog. A faint sound floated up to him, a noise that sounded almost like a whisper. He acted without meaning to, taking a half-step closer as he attempted to make out the words. The fog was rising up further now, and he felt more than heard a voice calling his name.

_“Come here Virgil, lonely one. Come and let go. Sleep.”_

Normally circumstances like these would put Virgil on high alert, fight or flight instincts kicking in at the first sign of trouble. But there was something so… _disarming_ about the voice. It made him feel warm in a way he had never felt before. He couldn’t remember the last time someone spoke to him with such kindness in their voice, not an ounce of disdain or outright hatred that he had grown so used to from the other sides. The anxious side suddenly ached for comfort and he found himself leaning in further, eyelids growing heavy as he began to relax.

_“You have no place there, unaccepted and alone.”_ The voice purred, repeating the thoughts that had plagued Virgil all night.

Memories flashed through Virgil’s head. Logan with his arms crossed “ _...but I’m no defeatist._ ” ringing clear as day in the anxious one’s head. This was quickly followed by a barrage of Roman’s nicknames, and the image of him mumbling “ _I don’t like you._ ” under his breath, which the creative side probably didn't think Virgil had heard. _He had_. He heard a lot more than the other sides realized. 

Patton was always kind to his face, but Virgil knew that such kindness could only stretch so far. That at the end of the day the other three were a fam-ily, and he was the outsider. 

“ _The bad guy._ ” Virgil thought, shoulders hunching as he wrapped his arms around his waist, smoke curling closer and closer as his thoughts soured.

Tonight had been a perfect example. The other three had been downstairs, “Fam-ily movie night.” Patton had called as he settled in with a bowl of popcorn. Virgil had been coming down the stairs for a glass of water, but had shrunk against the wall at the sound, crouching out of sight to avoid being seen. 

Virgil knew his place in the mindscape, knew better than to expect an invitation, but it still stung to see them all together, _so happy_ without him. Every once and a while one would shush the others and look guiltily at the stairwell, as if worried of alerting Virgil, who they thought was upstairs in his room, to the activity. The sight sent a clear message, _Virgil was not welcome._

The anxious side had sunk out then, breath already heavy and erratic by the time he appeared in his room. “ _What a stupid, stupid thing to cry over._ ” He had mentally berated himself as he gasped for air between the sobs. “ _Of course they don’t want you there. No one would. They were probably so relieved to be rid of you for a night and can you blame them? You just ruin everything.”_ The sentiments repeated in his head over and over again, reminding him of all his flaws and the times the others had made it painfully obvious that he would never be like them. _Never be good, never be a part of the group._

_“You are so very tired. Come and find rest.”_ The voice drew Virgil out of the memory, and back to the place he had unintentionally walked after the tears had finally subsided, seeking an escape from his thoughts. 

“ _Come closer.”_ It urged, voice like honey as the fog settled over him.

It was entrancing, and Virgil found his hand moving of its own accord towards the smoke, which had now surrounded him in a hazy smog. Virgil felt his eyelids growing heavy again as a cold weight began to settle in his chest, spreading slowly throughout his body as exhaustion tugged at his consciousness. 

“ _Sleep._ ” The voice urged him again, lower this time. A calming, gentle lull that promised peace and oblivion from his pain, from the heartache Virgil had carried for so long. Virgil felt heavier and heavier, posture relaxing as his head fell to his chest and his eyes closed. His normally racing thoughts settled to a dull buzz in the back of his head, and the side felt himself beginning to drift out of consciousness.

It was only when his fingertips started to go numb that the anxious side snapped back to awareness. He was so tired, and the fog was now a heavy, almost physical weight on his limbs, but the loss of sensation in his hands and feet was enough to set off alarm bells in the the anxious sides head.

“ _This isn’t right_ ” A small part of him managed to think, and Virgil felt a twinge of unease at the realization. The warmth he had felt just moments before gradually vanished, replaced by the beginnings of fear as he struggled to gain control of his body again. 

“ _Danger, have to wake up. Have to get away.”_ His mind insisted, and Virgil attempted to open his eyes. He found that he couldn’t and now he was fully awake, panic flooding his senses. He tried again, desperation finally forcing one, and then another eye open as he began to surface from the daze. 

Virgil struggled to his feet “ _When had he laid down_?” and took a few steps away from the mindscape's edge, away from the subconscious and the fog. He stumbled, and found that now, far from being warm, he felt chilled to the core. He managed to make it a few more feet, far away that the fog was no longer touching his skin, before the sharp prickle of pain as he regained feeling in his limbs forced him to the ground, panting harshly from the struggle. 

Virgil laid there for a moment, summoning the last of his strength. The anxious side cast a final fearful look at the subconscious, where the fog was now swirling in lazy tendrils again, as if nothing had ever happened.

Virgil sunk out to the safety of his room, and promptly passed out.


	2. The Girl With Braided Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as I was about to take my shoes  
> Off of the rooftop there I see  
> A girl with braided hair there before me  
> Despite myself I go and scream;
> 
> "Hey  
> Don't do it, please"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Chapter titles and summaries are lyrics from the song "My R" which I drew loose inspiration from for this story. Hope you enjoy)

Virgil steered far away from the subconscious in the weeks that followed his incident. He had been relieved to find that after he had regained consciousness in his bedroom that he seemed to be unhurt, physically at least. 

The other sides knew nothing of what had happened of course. “ _And even if they did know what you had almost done would they bother to care_?” The anxious side thought to himself, “ _Who knows how long it would even take for them to notice, it's not like you matter to them._ ” Virgil thought of the memories that had flashed through his mind at the edge of the subconscious, wincing at the reminder. 

The anxious side tried to carry on as normal, but the thoughts from that night clung to him. Sometimes he felt heavy again, like it took too much work to keep moving, keep acting like everything was fine, like he didn’t care what the others thought of him.

“ _And I don’t_.” The side reminded himself forcefully. ~~He did _, so much._~~

“ _I’m fi_ ** _ne_** _._ ” He spoke to the darkness of his room, voice breaking on the last syllable, distorting the way it always did when he got too worked up. The emo side’s face crumpled a bit, and he sat on his bed staring at the wall, watching the shadows shift as the night dragged on and on.

Suddenly, Virgil’s face hardened, and he found his feet headed towards the subconscious for the second time, mouth a thin line as he wrapped his black hoodie tighter around his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, just that everything was too much. 

“ _Too much, too much._ ” Virgil’s thoughts repeated, keeping time with his footsteps as he approached the mindscape’s edge. He kept his eyes trained to the floor as the well defined living areas of the mindpalace blurred into the white background of empty thought, until the slope curved downwards and came to an end. 

The anxious side looked up, lowering his hood as he did so, and was shocked to find he was not alone. Another silhouette stood a few feet from him, fog already creeping up from the subconscious to circle the lone figure. Virgil's blood froze.

“ _Roman_?” The side called out, the question falling from his lips. Sure enough, as Virgil took a step forward, he could make out the Prince’s red sash through the smoke. The creative side showed no signs he had heard him, gaze transfixed on the smoke. His posture unsettled Virgil, the Prince normally made a huge show of standing tall, seeming as though his boisterous personality took up an entire room. Now the side seemed… _small_ , shoulders hunched in in a way that felt all too familiar to the anxious side, like they were holding the weight of the world.

“ _Roman_!” Virgil repeated, more forcefully this time. It made no difference though, the other either could not hear him, or was choosing to ignore him. Virgil closed the distance between them, stopping just short of the subconscious’ smoke. He began to hear the voice again, only this time its words were not directed at him. 

“ _You have no worth_ ,” The voice declared, sounding sharper than it had the night it had spoken to Virgil, a hint of cruelty in its tone. 

“ _But I-_ ” Roman finally spoke, and it sounded like he was pleading with the voice, his own words trailing off as he seemed to get lost in thought, dropping his head into his hands as if to block out an unwanted vision. And even the way he had spoken struck Virgil as horribly wrong, it was too quiet, too unsure. It was the voice of a man at the end of himself, a far cry from anything Virgil had heard from Roman before.

Roman’s whole body seemed to slump in defeat, like he had come to some somber conclusion in his head. The side took another step into the fog and Virgil spoke, words tearing out of him of their own accord.

“ _Hey,”_ Virgil shouted, _“Don’t do it Roman!”_ The other side’s head turned towards him, as if noticing Virgil’s presence for the first time.

_“...please._ ” Virgil said, and it came out quieter, more desperate than he had expected. “ _What am I doing_?” the side thought to himself. The two could hardly be considered friends, and as Virgil stared at the other side he realized he didn’t have the faintest idea of what to do next. 

Roman looked at him, surprised and recognition flashing across his face, before the expression was clouded with disdain. 

“ _Stay out of it Anxiety_ !” The royal snapped, anger in his tone. “ _Leave me alone_!”

“... _You couldn’t possibly understand._ ” Roman said, quieter now but no less forceful, though he seemed almost to be talking to himself as much as Virgil. “ _And I’m sure you’ve heard it all before._ ” The side spat. “ _I’m just another disappointment, another screwup. It doesn’t matter what I do, it’s never enough._ ”

“ _I’m tired of trying._ ” Roman said, voice flat this time, the admission causing a painful twinge in Virgil’s heart as the familiar sentiment hit home. He tried to think of something to say, some comfort to reassure the prince but Virgil could not find his voice. His mind was completely blank. 

“ _I have to do something_ ” the side thought to himself as Roman began to droop with tiredness, knowing it would be only a matter of minutes before it was too late. Virgil may be expendable, but Thomas _needed_ Roman. No matter how much the two fought, how much the other side hated him, Virgil found his fists clenched at the realization that he _couldn’t_ let Roman fade away. Virgil took a deep breath, and did the only thing he could, joining Roman in the fog.

The anxious side moved as quickly as possible, reaching Roman’s side in an instant. “ _I have to get him out of here._ ” Virgil thought, grabbing the other’s arm with the intention of forcing him to follow. Though they shared similar builds, Virgil was a bit slighter, and for a moment he was afraid that he would not be able to get Roman out. To his surprise, all the fight seemed to go out of the creative side at the touch, and he allowed Virgil to tug him away from the fog and into the empty space beyond. 

The two stopped, and Virgil surprised even himself as he gripped the other tighter, pulling him into a fierce hug. 

“ _Don’t do that again, just don’t._ ” The anxious one demanded after a moment, still locked in the embrace. “ _You’re too important._ ” It was silent for a long moment and Virgil released the other side, taking him by the shoulder and wordlessly leading the other to his own room, unwilling to let go of the still visibly shaken prince. It wasn’t until they had reached his room that Virgil got his response.

Roman began to close the door, looking Virgil in the eyes for the first time, just for a moment before shutting it completely. Just as he did Virgil though he heard the word “ _Okay._ ” fall gently from the side’s lips, but he was gone before the other could be sure, leaving Virgil alone in the quiet hallway.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry more chapters are coming!
> 
> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are welcome. Please be kind.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcome. Please be kind though.


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